


Hero Worship

by SCFox



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-01-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 16:22:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,850
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3215633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SCFox/pseuds/SCFox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A meeting of minds between two badass ladies :).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hero Worship

In the middle of the night, when the whole of Skyhold had retired, the only sound around was the steady clang and swish of metal hitting something hard. Seeker Pentaghast had been slashing at the training dummies for hours, not even appearing for food. She was so angry she couldn’t do anything else, even though her friend the Inquisitor had managed to console her to a degree. She still wanted to work out her rage so it wouldn’t burst out and catch someone she cared about in the crossfire. She was blithely ignorant of the figure leaning against the wall and watching her, and just kept hitting out at the dummy.

“Stupid,” slice, “Varric!” slash, “Stupid,” clang, “Lying…” she growled with disgust.  
“Woollen-chested author-merchant?” chimed in another voice.  
  
Cassandra was utterly thrown, and missed the target completely, tripped, and landed flat on her face. She looked up, blushing scarlet, and came face to face with a woman a few years her junior, with short, messy blonde hair, a collection of scars on her hands and arms, and a wicked grin. As if her day wasn’t bad enough, now she’d just completely embarrassed herself in front of someone she idolised. The woman offered a hand, and Cassandra was astounded at how easily she was helped up off the floor, despite her height and muscle.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t have interrupted your flow.”  
“Champion?!” exclaimed Cassandra,  
The woman pulled a face, “Hawke is fine. Or, as you’re a friend of a friend, Madelyn.”  
“Wh...what are you doing here?”  
Hawke chuckled, “I just put Varric to bed. He doesn’t know how to hold his liqour when he’s worried.”

Cassandra grunted, and plunged her sword into the centre of the training dummy, where it stuck. Hawke’s blue eyes widened, and she stepped back slightly. Trust Varric to piss off somebody who could take a dragon down single-handedly, if pushed. Hawke was glad he’d found a new group of friends, even if they were a little scary at times, but they were no less odd than her companions in Kirkwall had been.

“He’s under the misguided impression that you admire me, and thought I might be able to parley on his behalf.”  
“That part at least, is not misguided.”  
Hawke looked genuinely astounded, “In that case, I’m very sorry. I must be quite the disappointment to you.”  
“Why would you say that?”

Cassandra grabbed a towel and wiped the back of her neck, leaving it around her shoulders. She motioned towards the blacksmith where she had made her base, and the pair headed upstairs to sit at her table.  
  
“People call me ‘Champion’, blissfully ignoring the fact that I’m not particularly heroic. I’m a thief, a smuggler, a mercenary, and occasionally cause civil wars.” Hawke shrugged.  
“The Civil War wasn’t your fault.”  
“Kind of you to say, but I know I didn’t help matters.”

Hawke was acutely aware of the numerous less-than-wise decisions she had made, and all the mistakes that went with them. She had a lot of blood on her hands, much of it innocent. It had been a very long ten years, and though she still acted the part of the sarcastic and off-hand young woman, she was older, wiser and more hardened. Cassandra seemed to sense the darkness in the woman, and offered her a drink, that was graciously accepted.  
  
“Yet you still made something of nothing, and tried to calm things down,” pointed out Cassandra, “And now you’re here, trying to help again.”  
Hawke gave a dry laugh, “Lot of good that’s done. All I seem to have managed is bringing bad news and upsetting a friend about losing another friend.”  
“ _Varric_ is upset?” Cassandra didn’t quite believe it.  
“Of course he is. He may not exactly profess it, but you mean a lot to him. He holds you accountable for all the new friends he’s made, and for giving him some sense of direction. He hasn’t had the easiest of lives.”  
“Oh.”  
Hawke laughed outright at that, “Dear Maker, you’re as oblivious as each other! He didn’t follow you all the way out here because you held a sword to his chest. He genuinely believes in you, and what you’re doing.”  
  
Hawke shook her head with amusement as she watched the information sink into Cassandra’s brain. She poured the woman her own drink, and had to admit she was a little impressed when she downed it in one. She could sense a lot in common with the Seeker, they were both forced to lead when they didn’t want to, they both had to keep their heads high despite their doubts, and they were both utterly drowned in guilt of varying degrees for various things.

“I’ve been there you know, Seeker,” Hawke gave a tired smile.  
“I’m not a Seeker any more.”  
“Cassandra, then. Lady Montilyet informed me you hate being called Lady Pentaghast.” she chuckled at Cassandra’s snort, “Anyway. I know exactly what’s going through your mind. ‘Did I do the right thing?’ ‘How many deaths might I be responsible for?’ ‘How could I drag people I care about into this mess?’ ‘When do I lose my head?’. Sounding familiar?”

Acutely so, was the answer that came into Cassandra’s thoughts. It was like Hawke was reading her mind word for word. She stared, dumbfounded at the woman. She had read and reread Varric’s “Tale of the Champion”. She couldn’t quite believe the hero she’d admired from afar for so long was sitting in front of her, in person, and so utterly relatable. Cassandra had a habit of bottling things up, and keeping her mouth closed. To find someone who saw passed that, despite only knowing her a little while?

“Perhaps I can ease your mind?”  
Cassandra sighed, “You can try.”  
“You did the right thing, the only thing you could have done and you’ve taken it in your stride. You’re pretty amazing, to be honest,” Cassandra felt her cheeks redden again, “People live and people die, and nobody has control over it except them, and perhaps the Maker. For every death you may feel responsible, you probably saved a dozen other lives.”  
“But what if one of the deaths I caused is an ally, a friend? Someone who I had no right to drag into everything, and whose life I turned upside down?” blurted the Seeker.

Hawke regarded the woman and gently rested a hand on hers. Cassandra looked down at it, more relieved than she thought she would be to have someone outside the others she could talk to, who understood, and found herself holding on to it.  
  
“You’re worried about the Young Inquisitor. Lady Trevelyan?” Cassandra nodded, “I’ve seen how you are around her, you’re very close aren’t you? That’s a good thing.”  
“Not if I end up killing her,” Cassandra sighed. “She’s what, 23? 24? I’m closing in on 40, and I’ve put her right in harm’s way.”  
Hawke laughed, “No, you _really_ haven’t. I’ve seen you fight together, side by side. You always put yourself in the way of any immediate threat to her. You’ve taken a hell of a lot of poundings in her defense, and you’ll keep doing so. You’re like a mother bear protecting her cub. She knows that, and responds to it, it puts her in a much safer position. She’d take as many beatings for you, and it makes her stronger, more confident.”  
“How could you possibly know that?”  
“Because I've _seen_ it Cassandra, with my own two eyes. So has everyone else, the pair of you together, you’re like a hurricane. Nothing gets through you. It doesn't stop there. You care for everyone else too, teaching Lady Montilyet how to use a sword, praying with Sister Nightingale, counselling Commander Cullen. Always watching out for each person here. Don’t think I haven’t noticed the little gestures, the kind words. You were even sympathetic towards that Tevinter after his friend died.”

Cassandra had never felt so exposed before. She had no idea how much Hawke had observed in her time at Skyhold, although she supposed it wasn’t much of a surprise. She’d admitted herself she made her way through the path of shadows, always listening and watching. Cassandra didn’t do any of those things for recognition, that wasn’t her style. But she’d lost so much in her time, and she was surrounded by a lot of broken people who had also lost things. She just wanted to help, even a little, if she could.

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” Hawke suddenly asked earnestly.  
“A little,” admitted Cassandra, “But, thank you, your words are at least...comforting.”  
“I hope they helpyou as much as your presence helps your friends.”

Hawke gave a warm smile, and Cassandra felt a strange butterfly-like sensation in her stomach that someone like her, was bothering to talk to someone like Cassandra. She stared thoughtfully out of the window, contemplating her companion’s words. She regarded the woman, wondering if she might be able to call her a friend. The Seeker had made few friends in her life, but now she seemed to be surrounded by them, and the thought cheered and worried her in equal measure.

“May I be so bold as to give you a little advice?” queried Hawke, Cassandra was her senior after all.  
“Of course.”  
“I’ve seen stories like this before, lived them even, as you know. Things will get harder, darker and more difficult. But for Andraste’s sake, don’t lose that side of you. However many hits you take, however many troubles you face, however many betrayals you suffer. Keep being kind. Life hurts like a bitch, but I sense you already know that. You need keep things that are precious to you close. Else you’ll find yourself cold and alone one day, and you’ll be wishing you tried harder to hold on to the little bits of light that were offered you. Our scars tell us what happened in the past. But they don't have to guide the future.”

Hawke’s face was dark, and Cassandra felt a surge of sympathy for the woman. But she was grateful for the reminder. Oftentimes she doubted herself, and tried to hide behind the walls she had built, she always had. She had been skeptical at first, when she had found herself within a merry band of misfits whom she realised she trusted with her life. She had developed an overwhelming fear of losing every single one of them, and consequently was starting to withdraw, especially after the incident with Varric. But now she was considering her standpoint, and the lonely woman in front of her, and decided she didn’t want to turn into that. Hawke stood up, she had said all she needed to, and Cassandra rose to meet her. The Champion offered a hand, and Cassandra took it.

“You’re doing good, Mama Bear.”

Hawke winked and grinned, and then she was gone, out into the night. Cassandra regarded the main keep, and though most of it was dark, she saw the Inquisitor’s light was still on. With a slight smile, she started walking towards it.


End file.
